Guardian Angel
by xfirefly9x
Summary: Scully/Mulder. A collection of short fics based on the relationship between Scully and Mulder of The X Files.
1. Guardian Angel

**_Guardian Angel_**

"...and I'm afraid you're going to have to take some time off," a young nurse informs Mulder. "Two weeks at the very least." She holds the medications out to him: a bottle of pills.

Mulder glances up when the movement catches his attention and blinks several times. "I...uh...what?" he replies, cringing. "Sorry. I must have zoned out."

"Don't worry," he hears Scully say from beside him. "I'll make sure he's okay. Thank you."

"No problem."

Footsteps, loud and then soft, tell him the nurse has left.

He scrunches up his face, his forehead furrows. Everything seems so distant, so far away. "Scully? What's going on?"

Her hand is suddenly on his forehead and it's cool and soothing and he never wants to move again. He presses into her touch.

"Mulder, you're sick," Scully explains. "There's been an outbreak of a virus and unfortunately you caught it. You've been in and out of consciousness for the past three hours."

He vaguely recalls snatches of images, faces, the back of an ambulance, a hospital bed.

"I"m going to take you home," she continues, "because the hospital is full and I can look after you better away from here. Okay?"

The edge of his vision is blurring, growing dark. He tries to nod, but can't tell whether he succeeds or not. He must have because Scully smiles grimly at him. She seems to shimmer in contrast to the approaching darkness and he wonders if she's...

"You rest now, okay? I'll take care of you."

...his guardian angel.

_fin._


	2. More To Life Than Aliens

**_More To Life Than Aliens_**

He walks with purpose towards Scully's apartment, key already in hand. His heart is pounding in his chest and he is aware of every inch of skin covering his body, every cell, and the gentle buzz of his blood flowing through his veins.

His mind is alive with the possibilities.

He slides the key in the lock and turns it, not bothering to knock. The door opens without a sound.

"Scully?"

He flicks on a light as he enters and pushes the door closed behind him, slipping the key into his pocket.

Silence.

He tries again. "Scully? Are you there?"

Nothing.

He walks further inside, scanning everything in sight with hopeful eyes.

No Scully.

He frowns and then goes about checking the rest of her apartment, one room at a time.

Still, his partner's whereabouts remain a mystery.

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and retrieves his cell phone. His fingers are hitting the keys before he can even see them and it's ringing by the time he's put it up to his ear.

She answers on the second ring. "Scully."

A small smile makes its way onto his face. Her voice is his salvation, his hope. Every time he hears her speak, he is reminded that he is not alone. It reminds him that there is more to life than aliens and conspiracies and the paranormal. It grounds him.

"Scully," he says back. "Where are you? I just got to your apartment and..."

"Oh, Mulder! I'm sorry. I'm going to be a little late."

A car horn sounds in the background and he realises she must still be driving.

"Stuck in traffic?" he asks. With his free hand, he scratches the back of his neck.

"The worst," Scully confirms. "I'm not going to be there in time for our dinner reservation."

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and chews it thoughtfully. Frowns. "Do you want me to order in instead? Thai food in front of the TV, maybe? I think there's a sci-fi marathon on tonight. Stargate SG-1. You know, there are some uncanny similiarities between some of the guest stars on that show and some of the people we know. I think it may be an X file in itself."

A pause.

"Sure, Mulder," Scully finally says. "That sounds great. I"ll see you soon."

Mulder smiles and walks towards the table where there are a stack of take-out menus. He picks up the Thai one as he says goodbye to Scully. "I'll see you soon," he agrees. "Love you."

He waits until she says, "love you, too", before he hangs up and dials to order their dinner.

_fin._


	3. To Smell Or Not To Smell

**_To Smell Or Not To Smell_**

"What's that smell?"

"What smell?"

"The really bad one that I'm thinking could be anything from rotten eggs to sewerage or a combination of the two."

Scully eyes Mulder critically. She taps a finger on the tip of her nose. "I can't smell anything at the moment, remember. My nose is blocked."

"I know. I just thought the 'smell from hell' might have cleared your nose up. It's really, seriously bad, Scully. I say we get out of here until it's gone." He grimaces slightly as if to put through his point.

"You do, do you?"

Mulder nods and pinches his nose between his index finger and thumb.

"This isn't just some ploy to get out of the office and away from all this paperwork by any chance, is it?

Shaking his head, Mulder offers her a hurt look. "Do you not trust me anymore, Scully? DO you think I'd lie about something like this?"

She frowns. Studies him. Sighs. "Sure. Fine. Whatever. Even if you are putting this on – and I wouldn't be surprised if that's the case – it's a beautiful day outside and I could do with a little fresh air."

Mulder grins and drops all pretence of covering his face to block the 'smell'. "I knew you'd see it my way!"

Scully rolls her eyes and smiles softly. "Yeah, well, don't push it."

_fin._


	4. Under The Bed

_**Under The Bed**_

"Scully?" Mulder calls out. He blinks the dust from his eyes and squints into the remains, the freshly made corpse, of his partner's motel room. Debris lays scattered in every direction, the majority of what he can see from the doorway in unrecognisable pieces.

Shards of glass from the smashed ceiling-to-floor mirror reflect distorted images from various spots on the floor.

"Scully!" he tries again.

Something makes a creaking sound. There's a soft moan.

"Scully, is that you?"

"Uhngh!"

"Where are you?" He begins to search in the direction the moan came from. He ducks to avoid a fallen beam, once from the roof, and captures a glimpse of something pale pinned under the bed. On closer inspection, he realises someone's down there.

"Scully?"

"I...I'm stuck," Scully calls out. "I was reaching for my hairbrush under the bed when whatever it was that happened, happened and the bed collapsed on top of me." There's a slight grimace to her voice.

"How're you feeling? Are you hurt?:

"Oh, I'm fine, Mulder. Never better, in fact," Scully replies. Her tone drips sarcasm. "My leg. I think it's broken," she adds.

Mulder cautiously drops to the floor and peers under the bed. It's made difficult by the weight of the bookshelf sitting on top, but he is able to make out Scully's form. As she had said, she is trapped and with no evident ways of escape.

"Hang on, I'll go get help," he tells her. He can see the faint smile on her face, half silhouetted in shadows. "We'll get you - and you're very special hairbrush - out of there."

"My very special hairbrush?"

He smiles. "That hairbrush may have just saved your life."

Her response is dry. "Wow. Must be an X file."

_fin._


	5. Longing

_Notes: Tag to 8.01._

_**Longing**_

Scully longed for Mulder as she had longed for nothing and no one else in her entire life. She longed to see his deep brown eyes and his messy hair. She longed to heart his voice, his laugh. She longed for his touch.

She also knew that her chances of seeing him again were slim.

All that she had left of him to hold onto were the memories: the first time they met, the wacky and often hard to explain cases and phenomena that they had encountered together, the nights they spent together, drinking and watching black and white movies on TV, while keeping each other company.

It wasn't much but it was something. It was something that would never leave her mind or her heart for as long as she lived. She didn't want to forget. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't.

While reality clearly told her that Mulder was truly lost to her, she had a feeling in her gut that it, reality, was wrong. Working on the X files for so long must have rubbed off on her, because that part of her couldn't help but believe that everything would be okay, that Mulder would be okay, that reality was lying to her and to everyone else on the path of finding Mulder.

Reality was lying in telling them all that Mulder was dead.

She longed more than anything for that to be true.

_fin._


	6. Throwing It In

_Notes: Tag to "Brand X"._

_**Throwing It In**_

"Mulder! What are you doing? You don't smoke," Scully says.

"I never _used_ to smoke," Mulder corrects.

They've already had this conversation before. Each time he's thrown a pack of smokes in the bin to show he's giving up and each time he's taken them back out when Scully has left him alone.

"Mulder…"

"I know, I know. You've never been put on nicotine to save your life though, have you? It's addictive! I'm beginning to understand how hard it is for some people to quit."

"That doesn't make it all right. That doesn't make it safe."

"Maybe not, but it's my body, my life."

"Two things you should be more concerned about."

"Well, yes, but…"

"Just give it up, Mulder. Please."

He can't ignore the look on her face. He can't take how hurt she looks, because of _him._ "Okay, fine. I will give up. This time, I will."

Rather than throwing the pack of cigarettes back in the bin where he can retrieve it from later, he hands it to Scully. "Take it."

She accepts and shoves the pack down into her purse. "I'll dispose of them later," she tells him, pondering where to put them as she does so. Maybe she'd throw them in a garbage can out on the street. Only the desperate would take them then.

"Meanwhile, I'll need a distraction," Mulder hints. "While I 'quit'." He pauses and a cocky grin crosses his face. "Maybe you could lose the shirt."

Scully raises an eyebrow. "I suppose I could do that. Or you could just use this." She tosses him a pack of gum.

Mulder throws it back and straight-faced, tells her, "I think I'd prefer the first option."

She glares at him.

"Actually, you know what? The gum sounds great."

_fin._


	7. Reconsider

_**Reconsider**_

"This isn't going to work."

There. The words she's been longing to say for hours now are finally out. No longer do they burden her and weigh down her mind with constant thoughts and concerns.

She breathes out in relief and fixes determined blue eyes on her partner. She hadn't wanted to say anything lest it upset him – he'd been through a lot lately – but it was a huge comfort to let it all out.

Mulder looks back at her in mild bewilderment and pinches the bridge of his nose between his index fingers. "What isn't going to work?" he asks softly. He tears his eyes from hers to search the room for any problems that may be present and then switches back to her, as confused as ever. Everything looks normal for a 3 star motel room.

"This," she says. "This room. It's unhygienic. In the past hour alone, I've seen five cockroaches and a rat. I won't even start on the swarms of insects. And I think they must have forgotten about housekeeping – for the entire time this place has been open. Have you seen the state of the bathroom and the sheets?"

She gestures fiercely around them and slices the air with her hand.

Eyebrows raised, Mulder nods in the direction of his room. "Mine's not as much of a hell hole. I've only seen half as many vermin and there are even clean sheets! We could share? The only thing is that there's just one bed…"

She studies him carefully. Smiles. "You're sure about this?"

"I am. My place is your place. Make yourself at home," Mulder winks at her. "And don't worry. I won't try anything."

"Thank you." Collecting her possessions from the end of the bed – she'd not yet begun to unpack – she heads towards the door. She glances back to watch Mulder as he follows and she not so quietly wonders, "What if I want you to try something?"

A short, nervous laugh escapes Mulder's lips. "If that were the case, I may have to reconsider."

_fin._


	8. The Last Time

_**The Last Time**_

"What condition?" Scully asks. She fixes cool blue eyes on Mulder. Careful. Cautious.

Often Mulder was the most predictable person she knew. He had patterns, ways of behaving that he was set in.

Sometimes though, he threw a curve ball. Now seems a likely time for a curve ball.

Mulder shrugs and tilts his head to the side, giving her a clear view of his beard. He clears his throat. "I think you know what."

"Even so, tell me." Firm.

"Come with me. Help me on this, Scully," Mulder very nearly pleads. "It'll be just like old times."

Scully sighs, covers her face with one hand. "Mulder, I thought we'd agreed. No more cases. And I - "

"You put me onto this. It's all you, Scully."

She removes her hand and studies him. Sees the determination written all over his face. Realises it's a lost cause.

She no longer has a choice in the matter. Mulder is in (all in, it appears from his expression) and she has always followed him, blindly more often than not.

Why change now?

And anyway, she had gotten him onto the case. It was her fault, her duty to follow it through.

"Okay, okay," she caves. "I'll help. But if it goes too far..."

"You're out," Mulder finishes.

"And this is the last time."

Mulder races in and kisses her and she can't hold back the laugh that escapes her lips. "The last time," she repeats, kissing him back.

_fin._


	9. Half The Story

_**Half The Story**_

"You really shouldn't be doing that," Scully says, watching her partner from behind parted fingers. Her expression resembles a cringe, albeit reluctantly amused.

Mulder waggles his eyebrows at her in response. "Ahh, Scully. You worry too much. No one will ever know." He grins mischievously as he darts his tongue out once more, so very close to touching. So very, very close.

"Mulder!" Scully flinches. "You'll lick it if you're not careful! You'll contaminate it." She snatches the ziplock bag from him and seals the evidence inside, away from the adventurous tongue of Mulder.

Shrugging, Mulder smiles. "I was just playing around, Scully. You know that right?" He pauses and a strange look crosses his features. "Anyhow, I'm sure I can find something much nicer than that to lick."

Scully raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

As if he'd preempted their conversation, he opens the drawer to his desk and retrieves a lollypop, which he immediately sets about ripping the plastic off. Placing it in his mouth, he offers a cocky grin. "This."

"Is there any more from where that came from?" Scully.

Mulder pulls out another and hands it to her. "I thought you might like it." He watches her unwrap the lolly and put it in her mouth, sucking on it and moaning softly.

"I really do," Scully tells him after a moment.

They share a grin.

In the apartment across the street, listening in on Mulder and Scully's conversation by way of electronic bugs they'd planted earlier, two men exchange shocked looks. On the table in front of them lays a scripted version of what the two agents had been talking about.

_SCULLY: You really shouldn't be doing that. _

_MULDER: Ahh, Scully. You worry too much. No one will ever know._

_SCULLY: Mulder! You'll lick it if you're not careful! You'll contaminate it._

_MULDER: I was just playing around, Scully. You know that right? Anyhow, I'm sure I can find something much nicer than that to lick._

_SCULLY: Like what?_

_MULDER: This._

_SCULLY: Is there any more from where that came from?_

_MULDER: I thought you might like it._

_SCULLY: (moan) I really do_

One of the men sighed loudly. "God, I wish we had video to go along with this!"

_fin._


	10. X Rated

_**X-Rated**_

"Seriously, Mulder," she says. "You have got to get rid of some of these!" She holds up one of the many videos he'd collected over the years between two fingers. A rather inappropriate picture and title decorates the cover and in the far bottom left corner is big fat lettering to inform anyone reading it that it's an X rated movie, as if the picture isn't enough to show that.

Mulder pops his head around the door and seeing the video, sighs. "I knew it was only a matter of time," he mutters softly enough so that Scully can't hear.

"What?"

"Never mind," he dismisses. "I'll...uh...I'll put them away someplace out of sight. How's that?"

Scully pretends to think it over for a moment and then narrows her eyes at him.

"No? Maybe not?"

She continues to stare at him.

"I'll sell them," he finally says, "on eBay. Might as well get something back in return." Silently, he goes through all the possible places he can hide them. Under the floorboards, perhaps? In one of the vents? The back of a cupboard? Or maybe -

"And Mulder? Don't even think about hiding them," Scully warns. "I will find them."

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't see how this benefits me," he protests.

Scully quirks an eyebrow and smirks. "No?" she asks, placing the video on the table and walking over to him. She runs a finger along his jaw line, making him shiver involuntarily. "Are you sure about that?"

_fin._


	11. Take The Time To Listen

_**Take The Time To Listen**_

The entire case had given her an overwhelming desire to turn and run away. Right from the word go, something had just felt off. Never before had she wished so desperately that she'd taken the time to listen to her instincts and act on them.

She couldn't explain it though - not without sounding...well, to be perfectly honest, like Mulder - so she'd pushed it away and kept going on. It wasn't like she could drop everything just because she had a bad feeling, after all. That would be unprofessional and a sure sign to her partner that she wasn't coping. That was the last thing she needed.

Vulnerability could only weigh her and him down and she'd never wanted him to think her weak.

Of course that had meant that she'd have to face her fears and that was what had led her into this mess in the first place.

She chastised herself as she looked around her prison and tried to ignore the unsanitary taste of the cloth that had been forced into her mouth. It had been an idiotic move on her part to keep things to herself. It had been utterly stupid. She was stupid!

As the door in front of her cracked open, she clenched her jaw and decided once and for all, should she get out and survive, she'd be more open with her partner, with Mulder. She sure as hell did not want a repeat of, or anything remotely similar to this experience. Not ever.

_fin._


	12. The Blues Are Back

_**The Blues Are Back**_

The last thing Scully expects to encounter when she enters their office is exactly what she finds. For a full minute she stands in the doorway and stares, unable to do anything else.

As she is too shocked to form any intelligible words, her mouth gapes open, displaying her teeth. One has a smear of lipstick on it. In her rush to get to work that morning, she'd slipped while applying it.

Her eyes are wide and as intense a blue as the plant matter before her. (There's plant matter absolutely everywhere!)

She sees Mulder's head pop up suddenly amongst the foliage and it's the sheepish grin he wears that breaks her from her stupor.

"Mulder! What the _hell_ is going on here?" She pierces him with a look and pulls her lower lip into her mouth to chew on. Frowning, she assesses the situation.

Mulder, approximately in the centre of their office, is tangled in the blue weeds so much so that his head appears to be floating. There's a smear of blue on his left cheek, perhaps left behind by a paint brush.

Mulder tilts his head to the side. "I sent a beautiful plant to Skinner's office on Friday before I left. It was supposed to do this," he says (an arm shoots without warning out of the foliage and gestures around), "to _his_ office. Apparently he decided to sent it back." A short laugh escapes his lips.

"Why is it blue?"

Another ironic laugh.

"That was part two of the fill-Skinner's-office-with-a-painted-plant plan," Mulder explains. "I figured I might as well continue with it. It's a different location, but it works."

"Painted plants?" Her eyebrows shoot skyward. "Why?" She shakes her head. "And why in hell would you play a practical joke like this on yourself, on me, just because it didn't go as planned?"

A shrug.

Sighing in frustration, she turns and begins to walk away. She calls over her shoulder, "this better be gone when I get back."

Only when the elevator doors have closed behind her does she let the smile tugging at her lips take over. Unexpected and unexplainable encounters were her job and yet somehow, Mulder's antics never ceased to amaze her.

_fin._


	13. Diary

**_Diary_**

Today is another of the days where my mortality is in the forefront of my mind. Mulder, it feels like only yesterday that we first met. I remember the long trip down to the basement. I didn't think the elevator would go that far down.

I recall the feel of the door beneath my knuckles as I knocked, and your response, "Nobody down here but the FBIs most unwanted."

Today, in this moment, I look back fondly on those times. Neither of us knew back then where things would lead us – that we would end up here. How could we have even imagined?

Mulder, I know this must sound confronting, or like I regret following you on the path we have taken. Understand that I don't regret anything. What I am trying to say is merely that together we have gone far, and that as I write this I am glad that my time so far has been spent with you on your mission – ours now – to find the truth.

Life is short. It's an overused cliché, but it is one truth I am now very much aware of. With that in mind, know I am very serious when I tell you that I wouldn't change a thing. And I hope that you feel that way too.

_fin._


	14. Butterflies & Moths

_**Butterflies & Moths**_

The past chases like butterflies on the wind. Wild. Erratic. Seemingly innocent, but perhaps not quite as pure as it makes out to be.

The past hardens a person. A butterfly trapped in amber. Locked solid. Opinions and beliefs are formed. Decisions made harder, easier, made.

The past is what makes a person. Builds them up. Turns them into moths or butterflies. Opens up opportunities and closes other doors.

Their past is one of adventure, of mystery and intrigue, of finding the truth and things that should be no more than fiction (but are as real as the beauty and quick passing of a butterfly).

Their future has been shaped in some ways and in others is as unpredictable as can be. It lies ahead of them. Waiting. Changing (a caterpillar to cocoon to butterfly) as their present affects their past, which alters the paths their future can take.

In the end, the past, the present and the future are one and the same. Like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, it, life, goes on.

_fin._


	15. A Good Change

_**A Good Change**_

The TV blares on in Mulder's lounge room. White noise. It's little more to the two figures curled into one another, on his couch. He opens his eyes and glances at the TV for a moment though, when he finally wakes. It is only a moment though, because his attention is quickly brought back to the woman in his arms. The TV is of little importance next to the fact that finally, he and Scully are getting somewhere. Dana.

He should really start calling her by her first name. But the idea of doing so feels weird. Maybe he should discuss it with her first. But then, maybe he's jumping ahead a little too far and he should consider taking her out on a date first. Pizza and a movie, maybe. Or, no, something a little more intimate. A romantic restaurant, perhaps?

His forehead crinkles slightly and his eyebrows knit together. He scrunches up his nose.

Yes, he should talk to her. He should find out what she thinks. Until then, nothing changes. Nothing needs to change - not really. Except that maybe he shouldn't run off quite as much and leave her on her own. He knows he does it, but can't help himself. It's a habit he needs to break. If they are starting this relationship, he doesn't want to have to leave her. He hates the idea of her being alone.

She can take care of herself, but life should be more than just that. Life for Scully should include him giving her everything she has ever wanted. He should be there for her whenever and wherever possible. She deserves that and more.

Another change he would like very much was changes in the items of clothing they wore when in each other's company. Sometimes, for example, he would be okay for them to have no clothing on. That'd be quite a change. A good change. He has caught her looking at him sometimes, with an expression that suggested she'd agree with him about that.

Reaching over, he brushes some hair back from her eyes; he tucks the red strands behind her ear. At his touch, she makes a slight sigh and she shifts position, moving closer to him.

He smiles. He has dreamed of a moment like this with Scully and finally it is true. And it occurs to him, that the most important change of all, if this is to work, is that he shows her each and every day just how much she means to him. He mustn't ever let her feel alone when he can do something to change that. He wants to protect her and he wants her heart, just as she has stolen his.

Scully exhales a little louder this time, almost a sigh, and her hand clenches closed over his shirt, and then unbunches again and relaxes. Mulder smiles and enjoys the contented feeling that has spread throughout his entire body.

He thinks about turning off the TV, but decides he doesn't want to move. He'll be happy if this moment lasts forever.

_fin._


	16. Aliens vs Religion

**_Aliens vs. Religion_**

"Just because I'm a scientist, it doesn't mean I can't be religious," Scully says, rolling her eyes. "I thought you of all people would understand that."

Mulder nods. He had wondered before how some scientists claimed to be religious and yet were unable to open themselves to the existence of extraterrestrial lifeforms. It wasn't much more of a leap of faith than believing in a higher power or a God. In fact, surely aliens made more sense than a powerful being, an all-powerful Creator. It was idiotic to think that humans were the only intelligent life in the universe.

Whether one believed in aliens or religion, both required faith. So why were so many scientists resistant to the possibility of aliens? Why were they so hesitant to admit any thoughts – even small thoughts – that something else might be out there?

"You've got that look again," Scully interrupts.

"What look?"

"Go on," she gives him permission. "Talk."

"It's just that... well. I'm trying to understand. How can you rule out aliens and still be spiritual? Still be religious? What makes aliens so unlikely and impossible to admit to even considering, yet saying you believe in some higher power is socially acceptable? What's the difference? Why is belief in aliens so ridiculous an idea to everyone?"

He folds his hands over his face, closes his eyes, and exhales loudly.

"I don't know, Mulder. But I know it means something to you, these... aliens. Isn't that enough?"

"I'm not spiritual, Scully. I've always considered myself a man of science. Of investigating."

She nods.

"One day, I'll find proof. And then you'll believe too. You'll have to believe. We can make everyone else believe, too."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Scully tells him, a nervous smile on her face. Her eyes seem duller than usual, narrowed.

He's already way ahead of her, though, and barely thinks past what she says. He rifles through the nearest cabinet, seeking a new case amongst the old, abandoned files. Maybe in one of these files, he will find some of the answers to the questions he has been asking.

"Grab your coat, Scully," he tells her, already on his way to the coat rack, file in hand. He holds it between his lips as he shrugs his own coat on. "The truth is out there, and we won't find it sitting around in here."

Scully sighs, and then follows him. He smiles and heads for the elevator.

_Fin._


End file.
